


Promises

by un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Grey Warden Stamina, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Sexy Mage Tricks, Voice Kink, half-clothed sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/pseuds/un-shit-yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I have always respected you, as I respected Anders,” the spirit said. “And in time, my respect for Anders grew into something beyond what I thought possible, feelings that are intense and passionate. I can see his memories of you, and his desires, and much the same way,  I find myself wanting.” He looked at Nathaniel, and the archer met his intensely glowing gaze. “But, if that is not what you desire, I will remain in Anders’ mind, and allow you both as much privacy as I can.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wyvernia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyvernia/gifts).



> I promised this to [wyvernia](http://wyvernia.tumblr.com) in like, October, but for a variety of reasons (including me forgetting I had the prompt saved) it never happened. Well, here it finally is, and it's four times as long as I thought it would be. D: I hope it was worth the wait. <3
> 
> As with all things, beta'd by [mevima](http://mevima.tumblr.com).

Nathaniel had promised to come see Anders in his clinic before he returned to the Wardens, but Anders had learned by now never to put his faith in promises. There were too many outside forces that could conspire against such things, and with events shaping up as they were, part of him wanted to keep his friend away from the madness, to tell him to go back to Amaranthine and forget he ever saw Anders alive; it would be easier for both of them.

And yet, there he was, entering as Anders was dousing the lantern outside, looking at the mage’s surroundings with his nose wrinkled. 

“I don’t know if this is better or worse than the barracks,” he said, setting down a cloth-wrapped bundle and a bottle of wine. “I’m glad I brought you food. Do you really live down here?”

Anders shrugged and tidied up while Nathaniel set out dinner. “It’s not so bad. I get left alone to heal people, and occasionally I have time to fuel my one-man/one-spirit rebellion against the Templars.”

Nathaniel snorted and began eating without him. “Always causing trouble,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, if you’re good at something, why stop?” Anders allowed himself a smirk, and sat down at the makeshift table. “I still miss being a warden sometimes. I don’t think I was half bad at that.”

“You were decent, except for the times you weren’t.” Anders was about to comment on the blush that crept along Nathaniel’s cheeks, but the other man cursed and crumbled the bread he was eating in his fist. “Fuck. I can’t believe they did that to you. I thought you were dead. And you’re here in this…” He waved a hand at the assortment of cots and crates, “this sewer, in a city that’s tainted beyond any measure of the word, just healing people?”

“Also fueling rebellions, remember. I’d give you a copy of the manifesto I’d written, but I’ve unfortunately given them all away.”

“And you’re still joking, like everything is fine and this is normal, to be living in hiding and having your friends think you’ve been dead for seven years.” Nathaniel looked him over searchingly, his grey eyes narrowed. “But you’re not fine, are you?”

Anders scoffed and took a piece of cheese from the bundle. “I don’t think I ever knew what ‘fine’ means, as a state of being, and I don’t have many friends left these days.”

“You had us. You’d _still_ have us if that fucking templar hadn’t tried to kill you.” The archer abandoned his dinner and stood up to pace along the dirt floor, agitated. “I should have been there, I should have been on that patrol with you.” 

It was something Anders remembered him doing frequently back in Amaranthine, and a pang of nostalgia hit him, so suddenly that he felt Justice offer a wave of sympathy in return. It was a strange sensation, to have memories from two different sources, two different points of view. To see himself mock Nathaniel, in a lighthearted tone he could no longer recognize, for worrying too much, while seeing Justice in Kristoff’s body, almost standing guard over them as a silent observer.

“The past can’t be changed, Nate,” he said, sadly. “Even if we’d want it to.”

“I know that, but _fuck_ , Anders.” He punctuated the word with a sharp gesture. “You never came back, and Kristoff’s body was just a body, and the templar was dead with the others. At least, we assumed he was from what pieces we could find of them. What was I supposed to do?”

_I_ , Anders thought, _not 'we', the Wardens._ More nostalgia, and he brushed Justice’s curiosity away. “Nate, come sit and eat, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” He tried to joke, but the attempt fell flat, and he sounded plaintive instead.

The archer stopped his pacing with a growl, and sat down again. Anders avoided his eyes, concentrating on opening the wine. Justice could deal with a single glass.

“You said you couldn’t come back with me. What’s keeping you here?” Nathaniel asked.

Anders reflexively looked towards his alchemy table. His ingredients were neatly labelled, save for a few nondescript jars behind his basket of elfroot. “I have something I need to do.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Don’t you have a Warden Commander to report back to?” Anders didn’t want to have this conversation, especially with him.

Nathaniel was as stubborn as ever, refusing to give up, which made the mage wonder how haggard his appearance was these days, that the man knew something wasn't right. “I do, but she can wait. I’m sure she’d come see you herself and hit you upside the head for not telling her you were alive. She’d want me to come back with you.”

Anders shook his head and laughed hollowly. “No, she probably wouldn’t.”

“Anders…” A hand rested on his arm, warm even through his coat, and he reacted on instinct. To his credit, Nathaniel only flinched when his skin lit with sharp, blue cracks, and the archer withdrew.

“Do not press him; he does not wish you to know,” Justice said. “It is not something you will understand.”

“Bullshit,” Nathaniel replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

“It is not something he wishes to discuss.” Justice cocked his head, looking Nathaniel over. “You understand the concept of honor. Anders and I have a duty to fulfill. It would be dishonorable and unjust to abandon it.”

“Aside from the laughable situation where the two of you agree on something, I’m still calling bullshit.” Having known firsthand the success rate of arguing with the spirit, he sighed, resigned. “I won’t pry, but I’m not leaving, either.”

“If that is what you wish.”

“It isn’t, but you’re not giving me another choice. I’ll stay at that terrible tavern in Lowtown and send Delilah on her way to give word ahead.”

Justice nodded. “So be it.”

Nathaniel’s eyes searched his face, examining the cracks of Fade energy that split his features. “Anders told me, but… I suppose I didn’t understand how this worked,” he said, gesturing to Justice. “But this _is_ you.”

“Yes. We do not regret what happened, though we did not intend to hurt you and the others with our disappearance.”

The archer furrowed his brow in thought. “Well… at least he has you looking out for him. It keeps him from doing anything stupid on his own, at least, unless you’re the one persuading him to...”

“Do not call our cause ‘stupid’,” Justice’s growl made Nathaniel arch an eyebrow. “Anders and the other mages deserve their freedom, and I am not coercing him into anything. We are united in mind and body, and I would _never_ let harm come to him.”

Nathaniel made a supplicating gesture and leaned back. “Alright. I’m sorry, forget I said that. I’m glad he has you, that’s not a lie. You protected him better than I could.”

“I accept your apology,” the spirit replied. The glow receded as Anders came forward again, blinking away a flicker of blue in his eyes. 

“Justice thinks you’re still an ass,” Anders said with a small smile, “but he missed you, too. That’s his way of saying so.”

Nathaniel watched him curiously. Anders didn’t know what to say, but since it was the first time he’d brought Justice out in front of his friend, the ease with which Justice took and relinquished control was probably unnerving.

“Does that hurt?” Nathaniel finally asked.

“Not at all. It’s like getting a shivery feeling down your spine,” Anders said, returning his focus to the wine, taking a long drink straight from the bottle.

“And you’re both… in there. He can hear me?”

“Anything I see, he sees. Or anything I’ve ever seen. He’s got the full catalog of my life, and don’t get me started on how unnerving that was the first time I realized a Fade spirit could see all the naughty things I’ve done.” He managed a smile, and Nathaniel grunted and shook his head, taking the bottle from Anders.

“I’m surprised he thinks it’s worth staying around to save us after that.” The archer drank and passed the bottle back, his fingers brushing Anders’. “I’m glad he’s still around.”

“So am I.” Seven years ago, he wouldn’t have been so generous, but Justice was a part of him, now; their minds and fates were linked. They’d built an existing friendship into something more, something more like a union and less like the battle of wills it had once been. Anders felt Justice brush against his mind at the term ‘union’ and the more vulgar images the word implied, and the mage choked as he took another drink.

Nathaniel clapped him on the back. “Still a lightweight after all this time?” he joked. 

“My chaperone doesn’t approve of drunkenness. A pity for you, if that’s what your plan was.” It was easy to slip into old habits, flirting with Nathaniel like they didn’t have years of absent time between them. He missed the camaraderie, certainly, but Anders had also genuinely missed him, even his pessimistic complaining.

Nathaniel smirked. “I didn’t always have to get you drunk.”

“True,” Anders replied, blushing. He blamed it on the wine. Justice hummed in amusement, and he mentally shoved the spirit back again. 

“Maker knows someone needs to watch your back, it may as well be an immortal Fade spirit.”

“It helps,” Anders agreed. “Having a voice in my head that agrees with me is good for my ego, and it helps combat the lonely nights.” He winked at Nathaniel, surprised that most of the wine was already gone.

The other man chose to focus on the unsaid implications of that statement. “That group of people you were with, aren’t they your friends?”

“More or less,” Anders said, with a shrug. He’d been withdrawing slowly, and no one seemed to be making an attempt to reach out to him. Not even Hawke, but he only had eyes for Fenris and the myriad assortment of problems in the city. It was better this way; it would make his final task easier. “I’ve got a bad record with keeping people around, Nate. You should know that by now.”

“And yet, here I am.” Nathaniel made an incredulous gesture. “Somehow, I’m back to sitting and drinking with you while we complain about our lots in life.”

“Congratulations, you’ve got terrible luck,” Anders said, laughing.

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

Seven years ago, Anders would have grinned cheekily at Nathaniel as the rogue removed the bottle from his hand and leaned forward, his grey eyes never leaving Anders’ as his fingers rose to cup his chin. Instead, Anders closed his eyes, waiting for the brush of Nathaniel’s lips against his own, both so familiar and startlingly new in its hesitance. There had been no hesitation in Vigil’s Keep, but they had been younger, more impulsive, without the void of assumed death and self-imposed solitude between them.

Anders’ lips parted against Nathaniel’s, and all apprehension faded. His hands gripped the archer’s shoulders over his armor, Nathaniel’s fingers looping through the buckles on his coat and pulling Anders closer. Anders wrapped his arms around his neck, fingers sliding up Nathaniel’s scalp to drag through his hair, and there was a growl of warning against his lips before the archer’s eagerness had Anders tipping back on his crate precariously. Anders’ skin flickered in momentary alarm before his arms tightened reflexively, and he managed a laugh.

“Not quite stable on these,” he joked. 

Nathaniel was still, watching Anders’ face as they righted themselves, as if searching for more traces of blue. “You said he can see everything?”

The mage blushed, clearing his throat. “He’s… present, yes. But it’s....” There was a pause, emotions flickering through him, and after a moment his eyes widened as he realized not all of them were his own. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“You look like someone’s asked you to fight a dragon.” Nathaniel’s hands were still clenched in his coat, breath against his cheek as the archer half-supported him with his arms around his waist.

“Don’t joke about that, for starters, and it’s not quite that bad. Well, for me, anyway.” Anders turned red, not knowing if this would end well, or if he would lose Nathaniel all over again. “He wants to talk to you.”

Nathaniel blinked, his grip loosening. “I don’t think you have any modesty left for your chaperone to guard, Anders.”

“It’s not about me,” Anders said, cautiously. “It’s… Maker, well, there’s no easy way to say it, is there?” He played with Nathaniel’s hair a bit, trying to keep his tone light. “You know all those naughty things he can see? Well, a few are with you. More than a few,” he clarified with a laugh, and Nathaniel scoffed. 

The archer raised an eyebrow. “It’s not as though that should be news to him, I’m pretty sure the entire keep could hear you.”

“Yes, well, I’d say that was your fault for not gagging me, but we’ll not get into that.” Anders cleared his throat again. “Justice wasn’t wrong about us being ‘united’ in both mind and body, if you know what I mean.” And it appeared that he did, because Nathaniel’s eyes went round and his grip on Anders slackened.

“You… what?!” He looked over Anders as if trying to determine if this was a joke, then released him and reached for the wine instead, taking a long drink and then continuing incredulously. “Maker, you’re serious! So with all of your ‘naughty thoughts’ you’ve corrupted Justice, is that it?”

“I wouldn’t use the ‘c’ word around him, he gets very picky about that,” Anders said, flushed and half-giddy from Nathaniel’s expression and his own nerves. “Justice has found that he enjoys a few perks of inhabiting a functioning human body. Especially mine… and he’s, ah. He’s guessing where this is going, and he’d like to ask your permission to be present.”

If Nathaniel’s eyes got any wider, they’d pop out of his head, Anders thought. “I’m sorry, I might be going mad. Are you inviting me to join in a threesome with a Fade spirit?”

“You have to admit, he’s much better looking than he used to be.” Anders grinned and snatched the bottle back, taking a swallow before Justice could scold against it. 

Nathaniel made a face. “Ugh, well… thank you for reminding me about his previous setup, now I don’t even know if I could get it up anymore.” 

Anders patted Nathaniel on the shoulder consolingly. “Don’t worry, I still have all my mage tricks up my sleeve. You’ll be in good hands.”

“Nevermind, _you’re_ the mad one. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“Well that’s fine, we could stop having it and pretend it never happened,” Anders said, and immediately regretted it, because even Nathaniel would be able to hear the panicked note to his voice. The archer took the bottle from his hand again, and fixed him with a gaze that he desperately tried to avoid. “Don’t be so serious, Nate…”

“Anders.” His fingers pressed against the mage’s jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes, and Anders fell silent at Nathaniel’s unreadable expression, waiting for his rejection. “Let me speak to him.”

The archer pulled away as Justice appeared, already scowling. “Anders did not corrupt me,” he began, but Nathaniel cut him off.

“I know he didn’t, calm down. This is just... it’s a bit unexpected, and to be honest, one of the weirdest things I’ve been propositioned with, and that’s including all my time at Amaranthine.”

“I did not intend to make you uncomfortable,” Justice said. “I apologize. I do not wish to intrude.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “I just want to know where this is coming from. I mean, did you always… fancy me?” And that was something he’d never thought he’d ask Justice, but tonight was full of surprises.

“I am not certain. I was not able to sense the world in Kristoff’s body as I can within Anders, and I was not aware that such things were possible. Now, I know much of mortal life, and it is thanks to him.” Justice ran a hand across his sleeve in a way Nathaniel thought must be fond, smoothing the fabric of Anders’ coat.

“I have always respected you, as I respected Anders,” the spirit said. “And in time, my respect for Anders grew into something beyond what I thought possible, feelings that are intense and passionate. I can see his memories of you, and his desires, and much the same way, I find myself wanting.” He looked at Nathaniel, and the archer met his intensely glowing gaze. “But, if that is not what you desire, I will remain in Anders’ mind, and allow you both as much privacy as I can.”

“What is it you want, exactly?” Nathaniel asked, both apprehensive and aroused at the thought of Anders and Justice being intimate, wondering how such things would work when sharing a body. He tentatively brushed his fingers across Justice’s hand, feeling only a slight tingle as he touched one of the lines of energy that cracked across his skin. 

Justice didn’t answer right away, and Nathaniel assumed that he was being mentally advised by his other half. “Anders enjoys submitting, and I have seen him submit to you in his memories. You are fierce, and giving, but always careful. Anders has always felt safe with you, and I trust you. I would know what it would be like in his place, to be taken in such a way.” Justice’s voice darkened as he spoke. “I also want to see him submit to you again, I want us _both_ to make him ache with pleasure, until he can stand it no longer.”

Nathaniel gripped Justice’s hand, the words resonating through him, burning him to his core. “That’s… fuck,” he said, at a loss for words, “Yeah, that’s good.” And maybe he _was_ mad to consider this, but he’d fucking missed Anders something terrible, and Justice was making a very compelling argument for madness. 

The kiss started with Justice, the spirit eager against Nathaniel’s mouth, and then Anders was there, the change seamless. He breathed a question against his lips. “Nate, are you…?”

“Yes,” he growled, clutching at Anders’ coat, nearly pulling the mage onto his lap. “I’m sure. I want both of you.”

“Always liked how adventurous you were,” the mage replied with a grin, catching himself against the crate before Nathaniel dragged them both to the ground. “Ah, wait.” 

Anders stood up, disentangling himself from the archer to stand up and hold out a hand. “Back here,” he said, leading Nathaniel behind the flimsy wall to his personal area.

“I don’t trust that cot,” Nathaniel said, “We’ve broken one that looked sturdier than that.” He dragged the thin mattress off the wooden frame, spreading it on the ground.

Anders laughed. “Well, it’ll be harder to break the floor. Though you might take it as a challenge.”

“Maybe I will,” Nathaniel replied, and pulled Anders close again, his fingers working against buckles and ties. He managed to get Anders’ coat open before cursing. “Why do you still wear such complicated fucking clothing?”

“Purposefully to annoy you,” Anders said, “and unlucky for you, I’ve started wearing trousers.” He shrugged out of the coat, draping it across the empty cot frame as Nathaniel’s hands continued to wander, the archer’s mouth against his ear. “But you’re also the one in armor, so maybe you should do something about that.” 

Anders stepped back and winked as he lay down, resting back on his elbows as Nathaniel hurriedly complied. He knew from experience that the archer would get impatient halfway through, and he was pleased to see that hadn’t changed. At least all the sharp bits were off, Anders thought, as Nathaniel sank down over him, pressing their lips together again

Anders’ arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and _Maker_ did he miss this, the way Nathaniel’s tongue slid against his, the soft scrape of stubble. Justice and he had found a way to meet in the Fade, but that was still not quite the same as having another warm body entangled with his. The spirit coiled within him, making his hips arch into Nathaniel’s, moaning against the archer’s lips. 

They parted for breath and Anders made another noise as Nathaniel’s mouth went to his neck, sucking a mark under his ear, and his fingers slipped into the collar of the man’s tunic. “I don’t think you’ve ever been this careful before,” he joked. 

“Last thing I want is to piss off your chaperone, even as eager as he is for this,” Nathaniel replied, nipping at Anders’ earlobe. “I miss your earring.”

“Alas, it was a tough choice, but I had to eat,” Anders groaned. He tugged at Nathaniel’s shirt until the archer growled and flung it off himself. “That’s new,” he said, tracing over a scar along his side, and Nathaniel groaned lowly as he ran his fingers over the lean muscle he remembered.

“It’s been exciting with you gone, I have to worry about keeping myself alive,” Nathaniel replied, gruffly. His own hands wandered under Anders’ shirt, and though the touch elicited a gasp, the mage tensed. “What?”

“Ah, speaking of scars.” Anders hadn’t thought about it, but now that they were here, well… he supposed there was no need to keep it secret. “That Warden-templar friend of ours left me one. It’s not pretty.”

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, his hands stilling. “Let me see it.”

He’d seen the other ones the Templars had left him, Anders thought, so what was one more? He rose up enough to pull his shirt up, his face thankfully hidden from Nathaniel’s initial reaction as he saw the evidence of his meeting with Rolan.

“Maker’s fucking breath.” Nathaniel grit his teeth in rage, staring at the long scar left behind when the templar’s sword had pierced Anders’ heart. He touched the ridge of it with his thumb, eyes narrowed, like it personally offended him. “How the fuck did you survive?”

“I didn’t,” Anders said, quietly. “Justice saved me by joining with me; if he hadn’t, we’d both be dead.” He felt the responding hum in his mind, matching in ferocity with the look on Nathaniel’s face. “He killed them all, Nate. There’s no one left to be mad at.”

“Bullshit, there isn’t, if I hadn’t…”

Anders took the archer’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Stop it, it’s in the damned past and can’t be changed. I’m _alive_. We’re both alive.” He shifted, thighs pressing against Nathaniel’s hips, and murmured, “Remind us, Nate.”

The response was desperate, lips clashing as if demanding proof of Anders’ words, and the mage’s fingers clutched at Nathaniel’s shoulders as the archer ground their hips together. Nathaniel braced himself on his elbow, his other hand sliding up the back of Anders’ neck, nails scraping his scalp and fingers tangling in his hair, and the mage arched his back with a whine.

Nathaniel’s mouth moved lower, down the long column of Anders’ throat, leaving quick, sharp bites across his skin. “So you and he, how does that work?” 

“Like this,” Anders purred, glow spreading down one arm to a hand on Nathaniel’s back, nails digging in enough to make the man hiss before sliding down his shoulder and across Anders’ jaw. “And if I take enough lyrium, we can meet in the Fade. You’d enjoy watching what he makes me do there,” he said with a smirk, lapping against the fingers at his lips and feeling Justice’s hum of approval in his mind.

“Fuck,” Nathaniel growled, watching Justice’s fingers trail wetly down Anders’ neck to rub against his nipple, pinching and making the mage gasp. “I bet I would. I hope he makes you beg for it, you’re so good at that.” His mouth latched onto Anders’ other nipple, tongue flicking as he sucked, and Anders’ hips bucked under the dual teasing, moaning and grinding Nathaniel’s clothed cock against his. 

“You love it when I beg,” Anders replied, breathless. “It’s why I do it.”

“You gonna start doing it, or is this not enough?” Nathaniel asked, then tugged at Anders’ nipple with his teeth until the mage cried out.

“Fuck, it’s close,” Anders moaned. Justice’s hand drifted down his chest, nails teasing across his abdomen and around his navel as the hand pressed between them, fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers. “Maker, both of you, I don’t know if I can take it.” He let out a sharp laugh that ended in a whine as Justice’s hand dipped under the cloth to rub against his skin, so close to his aching cock.

“I think we both know exactly how much you can take,” Nathaniel said darkly, rolling them onto their sides so he could tug at Anders’ hair with both hands, dislodging the tie that held it back. 

“Mmm, yeah.” Anders wriggled down, his mouth teasing down Nathaniel’s chest. “And you both know how good I look on my knees.” Justice’s fingers stroked his cock through his smalls, and his breath stuttered.

Nathaniel removed a hand from the mage’s blond hair to undo the lacing on his trousers, holding back a groan as Anders’ lips pressed against his fingers. “This is good too,” he said, and tugged the fabric down, freeing his eager cock. His hand threaded through Anders’ hair again as the mage ran his tongue across the head, swirling wetly. “Don’t tease,” he growled. “It’s been too fucking long since I had your mouth.”

“You always knew how to flatter me.” Anders gave him a cheeky grin and parted his lips, moaning as he took Nathaniel’s length into his mouth, Justice’s hand squeezing his own cock and twisting inside him in anticipation. The archer’s hands clenched in his hair, and his unpossessed hand gripped Nathaniel’s hips as the man rocked slowly into his mouth.

“Fuck, Anders,” he groaned, watching his cock slide between the mage’s wet lips. “Let me come down your throat and I’ll fuck you through the floor.”

Anders’ grip tightened, whining around Nathaniel’s cock at the thought. They’d been able to go for hours with their shared stamina, until they were both aching and soaked in sweat and come, and he couldn’t wait to have that again. Justice relinquished control of his hand so he could tease Nathaniel’s sack as he sucked, and the spirit clung to the memories in Anders’ head and echoed his arousal. 

Nathaniel’s thrusts quickened, and as Anders urged him forward with the grip on his hip, he slid further into Anders’ mouth, the head of his cock pressing into the mage’s throat. The gagged whimper around his length made him throw back his head with a sharp cry as he came.

Anders swallowed automatically, easing Nathaniel’s still-hard cock from his mouth slowly to suck out every drop. He wiped his mouth and grinned up at the archer’s dazed expression. “As good as you remembered?” he asked smugly.

“Yes, you fucking cheeky bastard,” Nathaniel replied with a low laugh. “Now get up here so I can fuck you.”

Anders hurriedly obeyed, leaning back to unfasten his trousers, and sliding them and his smalls to his knees before remembering his boots. “Shit,” he cursed, and the archer tugged off one boot to pull the offending clothing aside, too eager to deal with the rest, his own pants around his knees.

“Don’t care, it’s good enough,” he growled, and pressed Anders into the thin mattress, kissing him hard to enjoy the taste of himself on the mage’s tongue, smirking against his lips. “Time for your mage tricks.”

Anders grinned and flicked his hand to conjure grease into his palm. “You want more than that? I remember you liked the ‘sparky’ one.”

“Maybe,” he replied, and Anders’ grin widened, because it wasn’t a ‘no,’ and with Nathaniel, that was as good as a yes. He took the grease from Anders’ hand to coat his fingers.

“Justice does it better,” the mage said, and wiggled his eyebrows. “He’s more than willing to show you.”

Nathaniel paused, eyes narrowing and voice dropping to a husky drawl. “I did promise him something, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, you did.” Anders could feel Justice’s eagerness coursing through him, and combined with the sharp ache of his arousal, it made him writhe against the mattress. “You should make me come first, though.”

“Should I?” Nathaniel teased against Anders’ entrance with two slick fingers, rubbing in small circles in time with Anders’ movements.

“Fuck, _please_ Nate,” he whined, trying to thrust against the archer’s hand. “I just need a little more and I’ll come all over myself, and you can make Justice lick it off your fingers.”

“ _Maker_ , you’re still as filthy as ever,” Nathaniel groaned, and pressed both fingers into Anders up to the second knuckle, knowing how much the mage loved the sudden feeling of fullness and betting that it hadn’t changed in all this time. 

Anders let out a keening cry at the intrusion, clenching around Nathaniel’s fingers as they pressed in, and he clutched the mattress beneath him as he came untouched, his cock jerking and spurting across his belly. “Oh _fuck_ , yes,” he whined, spreading his legs further as Nathaniel worked his digits deeper, easing him open. “He wants it, Nate, can I…”

“Yeah,” came the husky reply, a third finger teasing at Anders’ hole. “Come on, Justice.”

Pale skin lit with Fade energy as the spirit eased forward, the sensation of Nathaniel's fingers pressing deep inside him making him growl with desire. His hands gripped Nathaniel’s shoulders, gritting his teeth and groaning as a third finger entered him. 

“Tell me what you and Anders do in the Fade,” Nathaniel rasped, eyes roving over Justice’s glowing form. The thought of Anders and his spirit’s mirror image together made him lightheaded.

“I order him to touch himself, and I watch him writhe and beg for more with his fingers buried inside him.” Justice’s breathing was ragged as Nathaniel’s fingers worked faster and deeper at the words. “I wait, until he aches for it, until his eyes water and his voice is ragged with need, and then I twist a hand in his hair and push him into the bed while I take him roughly, and he _screams_ with how good it is.”

Nathaniel whimpered a curse and withdrew his fingers, hands shaking with need as he greased his cock, Justice’s legs wrapping around his waist. “Ready?” he asked, and Justice’s fingers tightened against his shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

“Yes,” Justice panted, his voice echoing with a purr that reminded him of Anders. “Do it.”

Nathaniel thrust forward, the head of his cock breaching the spirit, and he felt a low hum of energy rock through him, making him gasp. Justice’s legs squeezed and drew him forward, and he groaned as he thrust deeper, halting as he sank in fully, watching the spirit’s face as he did. “More,” Justice said after a few moments, with a growl. “Anders can feel you through me. Take us both.”

“Fuck,” Nathaniel moaned, and rocked his hips forward slowly, already so close from the mental images Justice had been providing and the tight heat around his cock. “I won’t last if you keep saying things like that.”

“That is hardly a problem, and you are aware of it,” Justice replied with a snarl, and Nathaniel swore the spirit smirked at him.

“Good point,” he breathed, and rocked forward hard and started a quick rhythm, the hands on his shoulders gripping tight as Justice arched up with it. He knew somewhere in his mind that this was Anders’ body, but it wasn’t Anders’ rough noises he was hearing, or Anders’ hard grip that was probably drawing blood, and those thoughts reminded him of the mage’s earlier words. 

He braced himself on one arm and dragged his fingers across Justice’s slick stomach, and the spirit parted his lips for them, his tongue lapping at Anders’ come, and Nathaniel growled at the sight. He withdrew his hand and bent down to kiss Justice, tasting Anders and moaning at the faint vibration of Fade energy against his lips.

“Are you better at that shock trick than Anders?” Nathaniel asked with a grin, thrusting eagerly.

Justice brought his hands to the back of the archer’s neck in response, his lips quirking as his fingers pressed into the base of Nathaniel’s skull. Lightning sparked down the man’s spine, sweet and quick, and ripped his orgasm from him with a shout as his hips jerked erratically. Justice ground down against his thrusts, felt the electricity ripple through him as well, his cock rubbing against Nathaniel’s stomach, and he threw back his head and howled as he came.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Nathaniel panted, his hips stilling momentarily to regain his senses. “Yeah, you should teach him that.”

“He taught it to me,” Justice replied breathlessly, running a hand through Nathaniel’s dark hair and tugging impatiently as he writhed. “Along with everything else.”

“Lucky you.” The archer rocked forward, his cock still hard inside Justice, and he bit his lip as he felt his own come slick along his length. “Is this - fuck - what you wanted?”

“Yes,” the spirit growled lowly, his head falling back. “Better than Anders remembered it. But he is eager for it, and I wish to see him fall apart under you.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” Nathaniel said with a smirk. 

“I know.” Justice tugged the man down for another hard, brief kiss, and then the glow receded, leaving Anders the one to gasp as Nathaniel bit his lower lip, rocking his hips hard and deep.

“Oh Maker, _Nate_ ,” Anders moaned, wrapping his hands around the man’s biceps as his back arched from it. “You feel amazing, don’t stop…” 

His legs tightened, the heel of his boot dragging across Nathaniel’s ass, and the archer growled, burying his face in Anders’ shoulder to bite and suck against his skin. His skin slapped against Anders’, slick sounds mixed with Anders’ whimpers and moans as he fucked the mage harder. “You always made the best noises,” he rasped against Anders’ neck. “Like I’m splitting you in half and you can’t get enough.”

“Ah, fuck,” Anders cried, the skin under his fingers turning white with his grip. “Keep talking, fuck, I love your fucking voice.”

“Wish I could join you in the damned Fade, Justice and I could trade off fucking you until you begged for us to stop.” His breath was ragged at the thought, and he lapped at Anders’ neck to taste a bead of sweat. “Or we could both have you at once, I could fuck your throat and he could have your ass, and you know we could go all night like that, just using you, and you’d fucking _love_ it.”

Anders tossed his head and bit his lip, his eyes closed as he pictured it, whining with each thrust until Justice surged forward, releasing Nathaniel’s arm, and wrapped a glowing hand around Anders’ straining cock, stroking between them until Anders shook and came with a shout. “ _Yes_ ,” he whimpered, and the archer didn’t stop, whimpers turning into cries as Anders writhed against him, right on the edge of too much between both Justice’s hand and Nathaniel’s cock. Teeth sank into Anders’ shoulder as Nathaniel followed, still lost in the rhythm and the tight clench of Anders’ ass around him.

“Don’t stop,” Anders panted, “Fill me up, _please_ , I missed you so much.” He blushed, noticeable even under the pink of arousal and exertion across his skin, and he turned his face away but Nathaniel stopped him with a hand against his jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Missed you, too,” the archer murmured, his hips rolling slowly, and when Anders twisted fingers in his hair to pull him closer he nearly bent the mage in half with his eagerness to meet his lips. It was a kiss that conveyed more than words, Nathaniel too stubborn and Anders too apprehensive to say what they meant, and the motion of Nathaniel’s hips changed to match it. He thrust slow and deep, catching each of Anders' noises against his lips, his own moans lost against them.

“Please,” Anders begged softly, his legs tight around Nathaniel, fingers sparking lightly against the man’s scalp. “Please come inside me, Nate, I need it.” 

Nathaniel cursed and grit his teeth, desperate to hold on as long as he could, knowing this would likely be the last. “You’re already so full of me, I can feel it slip out as I fuck you.”

The mage gasped and panted, “You - ah, Maker - you know how much I love it, I can’t get enough of your cock, I want to be so full I fucking drip with it.” 

“Yeah, you fucking will, and I bet you’ll come from just the thought,” Nathaniel snarled. The wet head of Anders’ cock rubbed against his stomach, and he thrust hard, still keeping that slow pace. He bent his head to worry Anders’ earlobe with his teeth and rasp out, “You’ll be soaked in it and leaking with it, so fucked out you won’t know anything except how good my cock feels.”

“Nate!” Anders wailed, Justice burning through his core and adding to his pleasure as he clung to Nathaniel, the man’s dark voice and the achingly good thrust of his cock inside him making his entire body shake with the force of his orgasm. The sound of his name on Anders’ lips had the archer finally letting go, sobbing as he came.

Nathaniel caught his breath before lifting his head, snorting at Anders’ dazed look and pulling out carefully. He settled on his side, one arm draped across Anders’ sticky skin, not caring about the mess at the moment for want of contact. Anders sighed contently, and he shifted so that Nathaniel was a sold weight against his back, held in place by the man’s strong arm. He ignored the scratch of the mattress against his skin and the tangle of clothes around his feet, trying to focus only on the man’s presence surrounding him. Justice sensed the change in the nature of this thoughts, and gave a sympathetic pulse in his mind.

“Not quite like old times,” Nathaniel said, as if he could also sense it. “We don’t have to get dressed in fear that Sigrun will throw a bucket of water on us.”

He laughed, despite himself. “She’d always wait, too, until we were done, so we couldn’t ever relax. That infernal woman.”

“Mmm.” Lips lightly touched the back of Anders’ neck. “At least it wasn’t _during_. She’ll be glad to know you’re alright, too.”

“So she can kill me for running off herself, you mean.”

“She’s calmed a bit, so not ‘kill,’ but likely ‘wound.’”

“Good thing I’m a healer,” Anders muttered, wriggling back against Nathaniel’s warmth.

There was a long pause before Nathaniel spoke. “I know you won’t tell me what this is all about, but will you do something for me?”

“Anything, you cranky bastard.” Anders kept his words light, ignoring the worry that blossomed in his chest.

“When you’re done, come find me,” Nathaniel said, quietly. “You don’t have to go back to the Wardens. I just want to know that you’re safe.”

Anders closed his eyes and saw a pillar of brilliant light in his mind. “I’ll try.”

“Promise me.” Nathaniel’s arm tightened around his chest, and Justice took control of his hand to thread his and the archer’s fingers together, pressing both against Anders’ skin.

_Optimism is dangerous, just like putting your faith in promises_ , Anders thought. He’d never expected that he’d want to make it out of the city alive before tonight, but now, he found himself hoping that would be the case. “I promise.”


End file.
